


Getting There

by a_ufo_party



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Post Framework AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 12:06:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11736705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_ufo_party/pseuds/a_ufo_party
Summary: “I actually wanted to talk to you...about SHIELD...and all that.”“What is it?” Her eyebrows drew together in a concerned line.“I don’t think I’m gonna be a part of SHIELD anymore.”There.He said it.But the weight he had expected to lift from his chest remained very much in tact.“Oh?” Her voice held the brittle cadence of cautious anxiety.“Yeah. I’m gonna go stay with my mum for a bit.”“But... will you come back?”He opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by their foods arrival.They ate in silence for the rest of the meal.





	Getting There

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Is this okay? (Send me prompts on my tumblr: @chidi-anagonye)  
> Trigger warning: Contains mentions of Fitz's father and Aida.

**_2:15 AM_ **

_ “What are you doing up, Fitz?” _

_ “Couldn't sleep.” _

_ “Are you hungry?” _

_ “...I guess.” _

_ “Do you...would you like to go get some food?” _

_ “Right now?” _

_ “Sure.” _

_ … _

_ “Okay.” _

* * *

 

The diner was glaringly lit and smelled of stale coffee and bacon. A few hunched over people dotted the booths, supplying a collage of murmuring voices as a soundtrack to their meal. 

As he pretended to look over the menu, Fitz attempted to pick out individual conversations from amongst the general hum. He had been fascinated by 24 hour diners ever since he was a little and his mum had taken him to one when he'd been awoken by his dad’s yells. 

The thing that he observed was that each person there had a very specific reason for their presence. No one simply went to a diner after midnight because they wanted a snack (even if they claimed that was the reason…) No, diners after midnight were a halfway point, a stop off on a road, whether you were traveling or not. Everyone there had a place they hoped to get to. 

“What can I get you two to drink?” The waitress asked numbly, obviously less than ecstatic to be working so late.

“Two cups of tea would be wonderful. Thank you.” Jemma smiled warmly, glancing up from the menu. “And, if you don't mind, I think we’re ready to order our food as well. At least I am. Fitz?”

Eyes darting up from the blurred dish titles, he spoke, “Um, uh, sure. You go ahead.”

“If you need more time-”

“No, it's okay.” He looked down at the menu again and said the first thing his gaze settled upon. “The steak and eggs.”

Scribbling his order on her notepad, the waitress sighed. “And how do you want that?” 

“Oh, um…”

“Medium well. Scrambled.” Jemma cut in without thinking. 

The waitress lifted her eyebrows.

“Yeah. That-that's right,” said Fitz, with a shaky smile.

“And I'll have the oatmeal with cinnamon. Thank you.” Jemma nodded.

“Okay. Is this together or separate?”

They spoke in unison.

“Together,” said Jemma.

“Separate,” said Fitz.

The waitress sighed.

Loosely entangling her fingers with his, Jemma gave him an amused smile. “SHIELD will pick up the tab, so it’ll be together.”

“Together? Great. I’ll have that ready in a few.” Turning, the waitress sauntered into the kitchen.

“Um...Jemma?” Fitz murmured, eyes focusing distractedly on her ring finger.

“Hm?” 

“I actually wanted to talk to you...about SHIELD...and all that.”

“What is it?” Her eyebrows drew together in a concerned line.

“I don’t think I’m gonna be a part of SHIELD anymore.”

There.

He said it.

But the weight he had expected to lift from his chest remained very much in tact.

“Oh?” Her voice held the brittle cadence of cautious anxiety. 

“Yeah. I’m gonna go stay with my mum for a bit.”

“But... will you come back?”

He opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by their foods arrival.

They ate in silence for the rest of the meal.

* * *

 

When Fitz arrived at his mum’s doorstep with several bags and sagging shoulders she welcomed him without question. She did not prob when he declined to explain his reason for being there, nor did she act surprised. Truth be told she expected something like this would happen someday. Something would break her son, and he would come back home defeated. 

Despite her preparation, seeing him in that state hurt no less.

He slept in the room he'd inhabited as a child and helped with chores; silent and empty. When he spoke, his answers were short and hollow. The dark circles and crinkled hair he'd arrived with had not gone away as the days stretched on, rather, they grew more intense.

But the thing that caused Mrs. Fitz the most pain was her son's attitude. He dragged about in a mood that seemed to suggest he believed he deserved his suffering; that he didn't want it to go away.

He spoke very little of his friends, and even less of his occupation. 

One night over dinner she had asked after Jemma.

His face had drained when she mentioned the young woman’s name and he had excused himself from the table.

* * *

 

Fitz aimlessly walked the winding paths of the Scottish countryside, trying to ignore the memories each passing landmark triggered.

The tiny, rustic chapel he had attended with his mother that Jemma admired when she'd joined them last Christmas.

The sweet smelling bakery, tucked away between two massive trees, in which he and Jemma had shared afternoon tea.

The meadow where they had stopped to gather flowers for Mrs. Fitz’s table.

They all seemed to taunt him, reminders of what could have been...

Pausing on a brick footbridge over a flowing river, he gazed down into the water at his reflection. The person looking back at him was barely recognizable. He knew he had lost weight over the past few months, but never found the motivation to actually look at himself in a mirror. For he feared that, if he did, he would see The Doctor; hands stained with blood, eyes cold and unfeeling. 

However, now, that was not what he saw. The face painted on the surface of the water was not villainous and stoik. It was pathetic, broken, and thin. Not the face of The Doctor, but the face of the foolish boy who had trusted the wrong people. Who always seemed to ruin everything good in his life. Who did not deserve his friends attempts at forgiveness.

Picking up a rock, he dropped it into the water and watched his image shatter with a numb indifference.

* * *

 

Jemma’s first email arrived two weeks after Fitz had left for his mother’s house.

_ Fitz, _

_ I hope you are doing well. I miss you terribly. Give your mum my regards. _

_ Love,  _

_ Jemma _ .

Fitz read it sixteen times before replying.

_ Jemma, _

_ I'm getting there. Don't worry about me. _

_ -Fitz _ .

Her next message came sooner.

_ Fitz, _

_ You know better than anyone that I cannot help but worry about you. Please promise me you are taking care of yourself. _

_ Love, _

_ Jemma. _

He could not bring himself to lie to her, nor could he find a way to reply and tell the truth. What could he say?  _ “I’m not taking care of myself because in doing so I am taking care of The Doctor. And The Doctor deserves to suffer.”  _

So, he did not reply at all.

* * *

 

Several days after Jemma’s last email arrived, Fitz was at the farmer's market down the road from his mum’s house. She had sent him with a list of ingredients to pick up, and an extra couple of dollars, “To buy yourself a sweet.”

After saying this, she had kissed him on the cheek, but he had not returned the embrace. It wouldn’t have been fair. She didn’t know what he’d done. She didn’t know what kind of a monster her son was…

Stopping at one of the rustic stalls, overflowing with leafy vegetables and loaves of crusty bread, he placed several heads of cabbage in his basket and paid the farmer. Then, he turned to search for the walnuts when an unexpected site stopped him cold.

A woman, carrying several suitcases and a backpack stood, silhouetted against the early morning sun. She looked a bit like Jemma…

Then, as she approached, his stomach sunk. 

It  _ was _ Jemma.

Why was she there? 

A surge of panic ran through him as his mind provided several unflattering answers to that question.

But Jemma did not seem to be bearing bad news or there to vent her anger at him. Smiling apprehensively, she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Hi Fitz.”

His mouth gaped as he approached her. “What...what are you-”

“Is this okay?” She asked nervously.

“Er, why are you-”

“You never replied to my email.”

“That’s, um, that’s because I didn’t really have anything to say.”

“Oh?” Her voice took on a shrill waver which often indicated she was going to cry. 

Instantly, Fitz regretted his shortness. “I just didn’t want to say anything that would make you worry…M’sorry.”

“Well, I  _ was _ worried. And I know how you can be. You take the weight of the world on your shoulders unless you have someone there to share it with. So when you didn’t reply, I don’t know. I just felt like I should come here and be with you. But...I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

“No, you didn’t overstep.” He mumbled, ringing his hands.

A sigh of relief escaped the young woman and a smile lit up her face. 

Only then did Fitz realize how dearly he had missed that smile. 

“So, do you...wanna come to my mum’s house or…” He trailed off.

“Oh, um. Yes, let’s do that.”

“Or if there’s something else you wanted to-”

“Oh no, I just-”

“No, we can do whatever you were wanting to-”

“Can I kiss you?”

Her words rang through his ears like a gunshot. 

“You...want to kiss me?”

Blushing furiously, Jemma nodded.

“But why?”

“Why do I want to kiss you?” She lifted her eyebrow as though the question was absurd.

And Fitz supposed it was, as they had been dating for over a year. But still, a part of him genuinely wanted to know why on earth she would want to kiss him after everything she had seen him do.

So, he shrugged.

“Well, I suppose I want to kiss you because that’s generally what people do when they haven’t seen a loved one in weeks.”

_ Loved one. _

_ So...she still loved him? _

“Er, I suppose…” He began, feeling his heart start to swell with something that felt dangerously similar to hope.

“You suppose what? That you agree with my reasoning or-”

“I suppose that you...that you can kiss me.”

Beaming, she took an excited step towards him. Then, she paused, eyebrows furrowed. “But, Fitz, if you don’t feel ready-”

“No, it’s ok.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mhm.” He nodded.

So, with a look of tender reverence, she bridged the gap between them and touched his cheek lightly. Then, she rose onto her toes and pressed her lips to his. 

In that moment Fitz suddenly felt a wave of pure emotion pour over his body. Crumpling forward, he wrapped his arms around her waist with ferocity and deepened the kiss. It was as though the warmth of her lips had melted the icy wall he’d built around his heart. The shield of self loathing and anxiety that, until now, he had been content to maintain came crashing down in rivers.

After a minute more, he pulled away, feeling reality ground him once more.

Jemma stared up at him for a moment, a look of delighted surprise on her face.

“So, um...my mum’s house is that way.” He said, nodding awkwardly down the tree lined lane.

“Yes, I know.” Taking his hand, she grinned affectionately.

“How long are you...gonna stay for?”

“Until you’re ready to go back.”

“That could be a while.” He shrugged, with a small, rueful smile.

“I know.”

And after giving his hand a confident squeeze, she began to lead them down the dirt road to his mum’s house.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed that! If you did, comments and kudos always make my day! :)


End file.
